Well Kept Secret
by lullabystander
Summary: Cedric had spent many nights and many mornings inside the Beauxbatons carriage, but were anyone to ask him what it was like, he honestly couldn’t answer them. Cedric DiggoryFleur Delacour Established relationship. Oneshot.


**Title: **Well Kept Secret  
**Fandom: **Harry Potter  
**Pairing: **Cedric Diggory/Fleur Delacour  
**Rating:** PG (very mild insinuations)

**Summary: **Cedric had spent many nights and many mornings inside the Beauxbatons carriage, but were anyone to ask him what it was like, he honestly couldn't answer them. (Established relationship. One-shot.)

**Prompt:** 004 - Insides  
**Word Count: **669  
**Authors Notes: **Written for Livejournals Fanfic100 challenge community. Prompt 004 - Insides. My knowledge on the Beauxbatons carriage internal design zilch. So I just…made it up as I went along. Yeah.

Cedric had spent many nights and many mornings inside the Beauxbatons carriage, but were anyone to ask him what it was like, he honestly couldn't answer them. Not very well, at least. For someone who had whiled away a fair bit of time inside the place, overall, he knew very little about it.

The boys chambers were on the left and girls chambers were on the right, he knew that much; he also knew that the headmistress's quarters were somewhere between the two, but that was it. If anyone wanted to hear about in-depth magical secrets, or have Cedric write a detailed report on the interior design and its varying shades of blue, they'd be sorely disappointed.

It would be an entirely different story, however, if they were to enquire about Fleur's part of the carriage; _that_, he was quite familiar with.

_Like…_

Her bed was the furthest on the right; a four-poster single like the rest, but with slightly darker curtains (her personal preference). There was always a pitcher of water on the nightstand, and a glass, alongside a small stack of books with dog-eared pages, and a framed photograph of her sister, mother and grandmother that stood at the forefront (something Fleur always turned facedown whenever Cedric was there). Her luggage trunk, surprisingly compact, fit neatly under the bed. _A place for everything and everything in its place_. 

There were fine silk sheets that were always warm, and the mattress (though narrow) was soft and pliable, and moulded to whatever weight descended upon it, at whatever angle. Cedric had slept the best he could possibly sleep on that mattress; always snug, always comfortable and always with _her_.

And when the curtains were drawn around it and carefully chosen charms cast upon the area for privacy, Cedric had long since decided that it was comparable to a slice of heaven.

His own wide, lonely bed back in the castle was, in contrast, a bitter place indeed.

When all was said and done, though, it really didn't matter what Cedric could and couldn't tell people, because no one was ever likely to ask. That was because no one actually _knew_ that he'd been inside at all. The fact that Cedric was a regular guest in the Beauxbatons carriage was well kept secret between himself and Fleur.

She'd sneak him in whilst the others were at dinner and sneak him out whilst they were at breakfast. Being champion for her school gave Fleur privileges that she was sure to take advantage of. If she said she needed to study, she was left to study. If she said she needed to rest, she was left to rest. It was as simple as that.

At first, during the first few times, Cedric had been a mess of nerves. He'd had a glimpse of Madame Maxime's temper following the announcement of the Triwizard competitors, when Potter was made a part of something he _really shouldn't_ have been a part of. If she caught Cedric cavorting with one her students, her _Champion_ at that, and on _her_ territory, the results weren't likely to be pretty. For anyone.

It had been one of many things he'd taken into consideration, in the beginning. Actions always had consequences, and Cedric really wasn't one for courting trouble; he'd always been the type to keep his nose clean and his hands to himself. Life was a lot easier when you stayed inside the lines.

But when a girl like Fleur Delacour came along and set her sights on you, with a list of less-than-honourable intentions as long as a Hippogriffs wing, those lines seemed to exist purely so they could be toed, crossed and _completely_ kicked aside.

So that's what Cedric did. He'd had no choice in the matter, really - right from the start.

Fleur Delacour was a very, _very_ bad influence and Cedric, for one, was quite happy with that.

Not that anyone would know, of course. Not unless they asked.

And no one was going to.

END


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